


(put me on the table) make me say your name

by TasteOfHoney



Category: RWBY
Genre: AND ITS AMAZING, Canon Compliant, Emotional Sex, F/F, Gentle Sex, Morning Sex, One Shot, Post-Canon, i'm just very soft for the bees rn okay, like... THEYRE IN LOVE, so have these cute wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteOfHoney/pseuds/TasteOfHoney
Summary: “Can I help you with something?” Yang teases, turning off the gas to the hob before she can burn the kitchen down by accident.Blake makes a non-committal sound low in her throat. “Depends,” is all she offers by way of an answer, and Yang turns in her arms to face her.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 10
Kudos: 212





	(put me on the table) make me say your name

**Author's Note:**

> im feeling emotional in this chilis tonight so have some super sweet married bees fjdsafhdfhgsahfs

Yang’s making breakfast when a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind. Blake presses up against her back, and Yang leans into her, wondering what’s brought her wife out of bed so early when Blake is hardly a morning person usually. Still, she’s not going to question a pleasant surprise, and she turns to drop a kiss on Blake’s forehead.

“Morning, baby,” she says, and Blake smiles, the sleepy frown on her face softening into contentment.

“Morning.” Her wife leans in for a kiss, and Yang returns it for a moment before reluctantly pulling away to turn her attention back to the scrambled eggs in the saucepan on the hob. She’s soon distracted again, though, as Blake’s hands slide just under the hem of her t-shirt, exploring the muscles of her abdomen, and the spatula falls from her fingers as a shiver runs down her spine.

“Can I help you with something?” she teases, turning off the gas to the hob before she can burn the kitchen down by accident.

Blake makes a non-committal sound low in her throat. “Depends,” is all she offers by way of an answer, and Yang turns in her arms to face her.

“Depends on what?” she prods gently, curiosity piqued.

A hint of a smirk graces her wife’s features, and Blake’s tone becomes just a little more breathy. “On whether breakfast can wait a little longer.”

_Oh_. Yang would like to think she’s not as oblivious to suggestion after so many years together as she was when they first started dating, and she’s seen that hungry glint in Blake’s eyes enough times by now to know what it means.

“Why, Mrs Xiao Long,” she says, feigning scandal. “Anyone would think you were trying to seduce me.”

“Maybe I am,” Blake says, and then after a beat of silence she adds, “Is it working?”

Yang doesn’t bother to respond with words— instead she wraps her arms around her wife and pulls her in for a kiss that is far longer and far less chaste than the one before.

“Blake, you should know by now that it _always_ works,” she jokes when they separate, but if she’s totally honest with herself that statement is far truer than she’d like to admit.

Her wife takes hold of the front of Yang’s t-shirt and tugs her back in before she can contemplate it further, however, and then Blake’s teeth are grazing across her bottom lip and Yang can’t hold back the moan that slips out.

“I’m not complaining,” she says when she finally manages to pull away again, breathless and panting for air. “But what brought this on?”

Blake never normally wants sex in the mornings, too focussed on consuming food and caffeine—not necessarily in that order—to be in the mood for it, so Yang’s genuinely curious. If it was something she did somehow, then she wants to know so that she can do it again in the future. And if it wasn’t— well then she still wants to know so that she can start doing it in the future.

A dopey grin spreads over Blake’s face. “I just had a really, really good dream.”

“Oh yeah?” Yang raises an eyebrow. “And might I by any chance have played a part in this dream?”

Blake taps her chin like she’s giving it serious thought. “I’m not sure.” And then she winks. “But I could perhaps be… _persuaded_ to remember.”

Her wife’s lips are so close, only inches keeping her from them, and Yang murmurs her next words against Blake’s mouth. “I can be very convincing.”

She lets her hands wander as the kiss deepens, hooking her thumbs teasingly under the waistband of Blake’s shorts before cupping her ass instead. When her wife palms her breast through her shirt, Yang’s patience evaporates, and she flips their positions, sliding her grip down slightly to lift Blake and set her on the empty stretch of counter to the left of the hob.

Blake makes a small, eager sound and Yang swallows it greedily, but despite the newfound rush of need she’s happy to take her time. She slips her hands under her wife’s t-shirt to run slowly up and down her back, palms mapping every inch of skin that she knows as well as her own but is still honoured to be allowed to touch.

She’s rewarded with a pleased hum, and she pulls back just long enough to inch Blake’s top over her head, tossing it to the side. Her wife returns the favour, freeing Yang from the loose cotton t-shirt, and then Blake’s mouth is on her breasts, her wife’s hands on her back to guide her closer as she indulges herself.

Blake spreads her legs so Yang can settle between them, and when she finally dips below the waistband of her wife’s shorts she finds Blake already more than ready for her. Even so, she starts slow, painting lazy circles over her clit until Blake’s hips are rocking to meet her touch.

Her wife abandons her breasts to find her mouth again, and Yang returns the contact slowly but deeply. Blake gasps into her mouth, and Yang smiles into the kiss. Maybe she’s just being a romantic, but there’s something so pure and almost innocent about this— about the two of them needing each other so early in the day, like even just sleep kept them apart for too long.

“I love you,” she says, the words coming as easily as breathing after so many years sharing her life with this wonderful woman, and when Blake giggles she doesn’t mind that it breaks the kiss because the unrestrained happiness in the sound is more than worth it.

“I love you too. So much.” Blake wraps her arms around her fully, holding her close so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes, and Yang presses a kiss to the bridge of her wife’s nose as she finally slips inside of her.

Blake moans as Yang starts to move, and the pleasure that floods her features has warmth spreading through Yang’s chest. Her wife deserves all the joy in the world, and if Yang can give her even a little then she considers it a blessing.

“You feel so good, baby,” she says, verbalising the emotion soaring in her heart. “You’re so beautiful. So brave. I’m so lucky.”

Blake kisses her, slightly clumsy but passionate and _loving_ , and Yang worries that she’s going to cry while they make love for the seventh time in her life. She successfully hold back the tears, though, and settles for kissing her just a fraction harder.

“So am I,” Blake breathes. “You’re so strong. So sensitive. I’ve never met anyone with a bigger heart.”

Okay, maybe Yang does cry a little. But it’s all just so much— being reminded of the home she and Blake have built together. The _life_. It makes her feel so privileged, and the idea that her wife feels the same way about her is overwhelming even though she already knew it was the truth.

Blake comes less than a minute later, shuddering in Yang’s arms and panting in her ear as she finds release, and Yang simply holds her close as she comes down from the aftershocks. Her wife reaches up to boop Yang on the nose—like payback for the kiss Yang had left on her nose earlier—and Yang pouts, feigning irritation for all of two seconds before she kisses Blake softly on the lips instead.

They stay like that for several long moments, immutably and blissfully in love, and then Blake moves a hand to Yang’s chest, pushes her back towards the table in the centre of the room, and Yang laughs as she lets herself be guided to lie back against the wood, her wife climbing on top of her without hesitation.

Yang wonders if she’ll ever actually find out about Blake’s dream, but in the end she doesn’t think it really matters. Simply being around Blake—doing anything with her—is better than any dream could ever be.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh i just love them so much okay ;-;
> 
> anyway drop a comment if ya like and i'll see yall next time XD


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